


Moments that Matter

by babs



Category: Donald Strachey Mysteries (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-26
Updated: 2010-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-10 16:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babs/pseuds/babs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donald helps Timothy through a rough time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments that Matter

  
"Wow, you look rough."

Don looked up from the stack of files he was going through at Kenny's comment. He got up and went to Timmy, who did, indeed, look rough. Although rough might be the kindest comment to be made. It didn't matter. Don wrapped his arms around Timmy, gave him a warm kiss.

"You want me to get you two a room?"

Don felt Timmy smile against his neck and shake his head slightly.

"Remember who pays your salary," Don said, but Kenny just smiled back brightly.

"I'll just go get coffee or something," Kenny said at Don's continued stare and left before Don could respond.

"You shouldn't scare your staff," Timmy said with a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. None of his smiles did lately.

Don shook his head and placed a hand against Timmy's cheek. "You look tired. Maybe you should take..."

"You know I can't. Not with Sheree being so sick."

"How's she doing?" Donald guided him to Kenny's chair and gave a slight push to his shouders.

He knew the answer before Timmy spoke--he could see it in the way Tim's mouth tightened, the way his expression closed off.

"I talked to James before I came here. He said the hospice workers will start coming to their house today. Jamie's coming home from college on Friday. Jeannine asked her dad if she could take off a few days from school to stay at home." Timmy rubbed his forehead. "I'm going to make a couple of casseroles tonight and take them over in the morning."

"Good idea, sweetheart." Donald kissed the top of his head. "You're a great strength to James and the girls."

"I'm just doing what needs to be done." Timmy said. He cleared his throat and then stood up. "I was going to ask you if you had lunch yet."

Donald looked at the clock. "You realize it's past three don't you?"

Timmy looked shocked. "It is? Guess I lost track of the time."

"I can keep you company while you get something," Donald said. As far as he was concerned, Timmy looked like he could use a few more meals.

"Thank you but no. I'm going to head back to my office." Timmy squeezed Donald's hand. "I have to start looking through resumes." He swallowed hard and then pushed himself to his feet.

"I'll bring home some take-out," Donald told him and pulled his head down for a goodbye kiss. He didn't have words to take away Timmy's hurt--he hoped that his presence was enough to help.

* * * *

Donald looked around the gathering, trying to find Timmy. Ah, there he was, speaking to James, his two daughters, and an older couple. He had wanted to be at Sheree's funeral but he was needed to testify in court. He was grateful that he hadn't been the last witness or he probably would still be tied up.

Timmy nodded as he approached.

"James." Donald shook the other man's hand. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you. The girls and I appreciate yours and Tim's support."

"Oh Dad, there's Mrs. Reilly from school. Is it okay if Jamie and I...?" Jeannine gestured towards another group of people.

"Go," James told her.

"Thank you for the card and donation, Mr. Strachey." Jamie said before following her sister.

"You're welcome," Donald told her.

"Sorry about that," James said. He let out a breath. "Sheree wanted so badly to see Jeannine.." He lowered his head, unable to go on.

Donald shifted his weight and looked at Timmy. Timmy handed a handkerchief to James and waited patiently so Donald took his cue from him. It wasn't as if Donald had any particular skill at comforting a man grieving his wife's death.

"Jeannine graduates from high school in two weeks," Timmy said quietly.

James took a shuddering breath and then looked up. "Donald, I'm glad you could make it. Tim said you were in court."

"Yeah. Witness for a case." Donald made a face. "I'm glad I could make it too."

"Oh," James said then. "I suppose I should introduce you. Millicent, Robert, this is Donald Strachey. He's Tim's partner. Don, Millicent and Robert Jenkins, Sheree's parents."

 Donald shook hands with both of them. "I only wish we'd met in better circumstances. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Partner? I thought you worked for the senator, Mr. Callahan," Millicent said, frowning. "Are you a police officer, Mr. Strachey?"

Donald shook his head with a wry grin. "I don't think they'd have me on the force. I'm a private investigator."

"Donald's my husband." Timmy said quietly. "My partner in life."

Millicent's expression tightened before she gave a curt nod. "Yes." She glanced towards her granddaughters before looking back at Donald and Tim. "James, I hope you are able to keep your daughters..."

Robert interrupted his wife, "Milly, I see Doris Lester over by the pastor. Perhaps we should go say hello."  

Donald watched them go, his shoulders tensing.

"It doesn't matter," Timmy said.

"Yes it d..."

"No. At this moment, no, Donald, it does not."

One look at Tim's expression was enough to deflate any sense of righteous indignation Donald felt. As usual Timmy was right.

* * * *

Donald watched as Kenny's head bobbed in time to whatever music he was listening to on his iPod while he typed. The phone rang a third time. Not that Donald couldn't get it himself but Kenny was right there.

"Strachey here," he said surprised when the person on the other end turned out to be Senator Platt.

"Donald," Senator Platt said, "I need to do a favor for me."

"A favor?" Donald's mind went skittering in a couple dozen different directions. Was she being blackmailed for some indiscretion of her youth? Having an affair? Suspected of having an affair? Something that she didn't want the cops to be involved in?

"I need you to take Tim away for a break."

Okay, so that brought him back to attention. "Take Tim away?" Now she was going to think he was an idiot since he all seemed to be able to do was repeat whatever she said.

"Tim needs a vacation. I'm sure you've noticed how much he's been working since Sheree Taylor's death. He seems to be under the impression that the administrative assistant I hired won't do a good job although he personally recommended her."

And then the lightbulb went on and Donald felt like hitting his head against the desk for his own stupidity. While Tim had been so busy helping everyone else deal with their grief over Sheree Taylor's brief illness and death, he hadn't taken time to deal with his own.

"I think I can arrange a getaway for a few days, Senator Platt," Donald said.

"Thank you, Donald," she replied and he swore he could hear the smile in her voice.

Two hours later and the money he'd been saving for a new car to make Timothy happy lighter, Donald had a long weekend booked at a Vermont bed and breakfast along with some special amenities. He vowed that Timothy wouldn't find out the exact cost. There were advantages to keeping some of their finances separate after all.

* * * *

"I would have been perfectly happy staying at home, Donald," Timothy said from the passenger seat.

Donald glanced over at him and grinned. "You're so cute when you're pissy."

Timothy rolled his eyes. "I am not pissy. I'm tired and I know you spent way too much money on this getaway."

"Are we going to argue about this?" Donald kept his voice even and his eyes on the road.

There was a long sigh from Timothy and then Tim reached over to touch the back of Donald's hand. "Of course not, sweetheart. I just meant this isn't necessary."

"Let me do this for you," Donald said. "Give me this weekend to take care of you, okay?"

"I'll be gracious and say thank you," Timmy said. He rested his head against the window and closed his eyes.

"I love you," Donald told him.

"Love you too," Timothy said around a yawn.

* * * *

Their cabin was tucked in the woods away from the main lodge, and it was every bit as luxurious as the website had made it out to be. Donald watched Timothy stretch by the fire in the fireplace. He was way more interested in the view of Timmy's back and ass than the view of the mountains from the large windows.

"Did you enjoy your massage?" Donald asked. He handed Timothy a martini.

"It was wonderful." Timmy took a sip of the martini and then gave Donald a kiss. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Hmm..I might have to arrange more massages if I get thanked like this every time." Donald put down his martini and opened his arms.

"I've only begun my thank you," Timothy said as he kissed Donald once again. "Maybe I should show my appreciation in the bedroom?" He tugged at the knot on Donald's bathrobe. "Oh yes, most definitely I should." He smiled and took Donald's hand.

After that, what was left for Donald to do but follow?

* * * *

"You know," Timmy said after he took the final bite of maple syrup drenched French toast, "I might start demanding breakfast in bed every day. A man could get used to being spoiled."

"You deserve every minute of it," Donald told him and then took the opportunity to kiss away a bit of maple syrup that was tantalizingly on Timothy's lips. "I love spoiling you." Donald took the wicker tray and placed it on the floor. "You're a good man, Timothy Callahan."

"So are you, Donald Strachey." Timothy pulled him close for another kiss. "Maybe we should take another bath in that nice very large tub."

"Maybe we should." Donald got up and pulled off his bathrobe. "In fact, I think that's a very good idea. I can make sure you're nice and clean all over."

* * * *  
Timothy sighed to Donald's right as they sat on the porch of the cabin. It was cold enough to need jackets on this early spring night and their breath came in white puffs.

"Something wrong, honey?" Donald asked. Moonlight and snow reflected off Timothy's glasses, hiding his eyes.

"This has been nice," Timothy said. "Getting away, just the two of us."

"If I had more money, I'd whisk you away every chance I got." Donald draped his arm across Timothy's shoulders and smiled when Timothy rested his head on Donald's shoulder.

"I don't need to be whisked away. We don't need more money. We have each other and that's more than enough for me." Timothy said.

"It is for me too. I wish I could give you the world though."

"You've given me yourself, Donald. That's all that matters." Timothy said. "It's not the things in life that matter but our relationships. In the end, no one cares about the stuff we've accumuluated. Actually I suppose some people do, but they are the ones who are far more poor than those who know that love is what matters."

"You would have made a wonderful priest," Donald said.

"That was quite the change," Timothy said and sat up. He looked at Donald, his expression serious and intent.

"I mean it. You're a man of compassion and caring. You have your priorities straight."

"I don't know that the Catholic church would agree on the straight priorities part of that statement." Timothy said.

"It was their loss," Donald said. "When Sheree got sick and then when she passed, you gave of yourself without even thinking about it. To me, that's what a priest should do."

"I thought of how I'd feel if it had been you. Getting sick so quickly and knowing that we only had such a short time left with each other when there is so much living left to do." Timothy went silent and looked out over the moonlit woods.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Donald said. He put his hand in Timothy's, interlaced his fingers with Timothy's longer ones. "Guess that's why we're always told to live each moment."

"Yes," Timmy said, his voice rough. "Yes I suppose it is."

"Come here," Donald said and enfolded Timothy in his arms. He felt hot tears against the cold skin of his neck. "It's time. Time to allow yourself to grieve."

Timothy brought his hand up to clutch the back of Donald's neck as he began to sob in earnest. Donald held on tight.

"I'm here, sweetheart. Let yourself go. I'm always here to catch you."

No matter how many moments, how many days or years they had left together, Donald knew it would never be enough. He was going to make sure Timothy knew for every one of them that Donald loved him. He felt his own eyes sting with tears.

"I love you, Timothy Callahan," Donald whispered in Timmy's ear. "I love you. Don't ever forget that."

Donald closed his eyes and let himself absorb Timothy's weight in his arms, the heat of Timothy's tears on cold skin, the smell of aftershave and wet wool, the sound of their co-mingled breaths. He would hold this memory for the rest of his life. He looked up at the stars and began to count his blessings. Too bad there weren't going to be stars enough to number them all.

.

  
 


End file.
